


The Warmest Magic

by 221brosiewilde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221brosiewilde/pseuds/221brosiewilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for kink prompts: Things I didn't know I needed: Hufflepuff Sebastian and Slytherin Jim fucking in the Gryffindor common room.<br/>Moran/Moriarty, Moran code-switching during sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warmest Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pasiphile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/gifts).



“You know, I hate to state the obvious,” Sebastian says. “But we really shouldn’t be in here.” He plops down on one of the overstuffed, red couches, and sprawls. In Jim’s opinion, Sebastian has always looked like a jungle cat stuffed into human form -- aristocratic features, piercing eyes, the way his body seems to  roll  into its movements -- and watching him survey the Gryffindor common room like he owns the place only lends evidence to that. 

“When have we ever cared about places we’re supposed to be?” Jim shoots back. He walks towards the fireplace, picks up a few knickknacks and studies them before putting them down again. Despite all his knowledge of Hogwarts’s hidden nooks and crannies, he’s never actually been in the Gryffindor common room before, and now that he is, he feels antsy, like there’s too much he wants to do all at once. 

He turns a slow circle in the middle of the room and takes it in. All in all, it’s fairly disappointing. It lacks the grace and style of the Slytherin common room. It’s exactly what he’d expect from people who pride themselves on bravery, loyalty, and all the other virtuous traits that Gryffindors supposedly possess. It’s warm, and comforting, and just standing in it makes Jim want to break something. 

“Good point,” Sebastian says. He stands up and walks over to the chess board on the other side of the room. He studies it for a second before moving the rook one block up. As soon as Sebastian takes his hand off of it, the queen slides forward and smashes the piece into neat little pieces. The other side lets out a groan of sympathy for their fallen comrade and Sebastian grins. 

“But it’s not like we have a lot of time anyway. That smoke bomb is only supposed to last fifteen minutes at the most, and I’m pretty sure I saw Watson spot us when we slipped away.”

Jim shrugs and walks in front of the fireplace. He snaps his fingers and the hearth blazes to life, chasing the February chill out of the room. He smirks, pleased.

“John Watson isn’t going anywhere unless he knows how to counter a misdirection spell,” Jim says easily. “And if we’re going by the scores on his last charms exam…”

“It doesn’t seem likely,” Sebastian finishes. “Neat.” He turns and fixes Jim with a look that Jim’s seen before, the one that always leaves him feeling at least three times as confident as before and twice as awkward. Or at least, he thinks that’s what the churning in his stomach is. Sebastian’s been looking at him that way since first year, and he still doesn’t know what to make of it. He pushes it out of his mind.

“Precisely,” Jim says, trying not to preen under Sebastian’s gaze. He looks around the common room again, at the books strewn in the corner, at a half constructed blanket fort by one of the armchairs. Jim walks over to the latter and plops down. “And it’s not like Sherlock’s going to be helping him again. Not since--”

“He’s been in detention every night. With me.” Sebastian’s lip curls, and Jim would snap at him for finishing his sentences -- an annoying habit they’ve been getting into as of late, ever since they’d started shagging each others brains out every night-- but the thought of Sebastian sharing detention with Sherlock Holmes is still amusing. “Did you have to remind me?”

“Oh, don’t pout, darling. It’s unattractive,” Jim says. It’s an unabashed lie. Sebastian never looks unattractive, especially with the red light of the fire licking the brown hues of his skin, but Jim won’t tell him that. The last thing he needs is an ego boost. 

“Liar,” Sebastian says. One corner of his mouth twitches up in a ridiculously dashing smirk, and  really, Jim? Dashing?  he chides himself, and does his best to ignore the stab of attraction he feels. He’s starting to get the feeling that Sebastian’s angling for something, and if it’s what Jim thinks it is, he’s definitely not going to complain. 

He shrugs. “There’s no need for you to pout just because you aren’t fond of spending your evenings with Sherlock.”

“I think there’s a lot of reason to pout,” Sebastian says, turning to face Jim fully. “Especially since it takes away from my evenings with you.”

The smirk spreads across Jim’s face, slow and dirty like an oil slick. He wishes he could control his expression better, but Sebastian doesn’t play fair, and Jim is realizing that he is  stupidly  susceptible to obvious come ons.

At least when they’re from Sebastian.

He manages to wrangle his face into a more composed expression and settles back against the chair which, he notices for the first time, is extremely roomy. 

“Well, we’ll just have to make up for lost time, won’t we?”

“I suppose we will.” Sebastian is stalking towards him with the balanced composure of a predator. Jim will be damned before he considers himself prey, so he brings his hand up and crooks his finger, beckoning him closer. 

Sebastian’s tie tugs him forward the last few steps and Sebastian gags at the sudden tightness, but then he’s a warm, heavy weight in Jim’s lap, and Jim can’t help but feel a little pleased with himself. 

“You couldn’t wait for me to take two more steps?” Sebastian asks, loosening his tie with a grimace. He’s only pretending to be annoyed. Jim knows this because he’s seen the way Sebastian’s eyes light up when he uses wandless magic. Plus, he’s already wrapping his arms around Jim’s neck and pulling him close. If that’s a sign of annoyance then Jim has missed something. 

“I don’t like waiting,” Jim growls. Sebastian’s face heats, and Jim can’t resist anymore. He slides his fingers through Sebastian’s hair and pulls him in. Their lips crush together in a hot, familiar slide, and Jim thinks that it’s possible for him to die like this. Someday. Right now, Sebastian’s teeth are digging into Jim’s bottom lip, clamping down until he tastes blood, warm and salty sweet on his tongue, and he’s not sure which of them moans first. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Sebastian pants. His breathing already unsteady. He tries to hide it by mouthing along the smooth column of Jim’s throat, but Jim can hear the tell tale hitch. 

“Then we’d better hurry,” Jim grinds out, already working on Sebastian’s belt. Sebastian’s eyes flick to Jim’s shirt and tie for a quick second, considering, but Jim shakes his head. “Later, pet. Tonight you can spread me out any way you want, but we’re on a bit of a time limit.”

Sebastian’s dark brown eyes glint with mischief. “That’s a dangerous promise.”

Jim bares his teeth in a smile. “I like danger.”

He expects the usual put upon sigh, but it never comes. Instead, there’s a warm hand on his cock, pressing, squeezing, and the gasp bubbles out of his throat before he can help it. 

Sebastian’s eyes are bright, half hidden behind his lids. Jim leans in, kissing him hard to repress the noise that nearly escapes when Sebastian’s hand tightens. 

“Seb,” he breathes. He snakes his hand along the inside of Sebastian’s thigh to touch him the same way, but Sebastian’s fingers are around his wrist suddenly, pinning it to the stupid red upholstery. 

“You like danger?” Sebastian asks.  Danga.  Dropping the R. India is creeping through Sebastian’s usually impeccable British accent, which means he’s definitely feeling it more than Jim had thought.

“Love it,” he purrs. He grins, and rolls his hips forward, earning a gasp. “Now are you going to let me touch you, or did you want to make this all about me? Because I assure you, I don’t mind that.”

Sebastian ignores him. There’s hunger in his eyes, and for a split second Jim feels a flicker of something he thinks might be fear. It’s no wonder Sebastian’s patronus is a tiger; no other animal fits him, unlike Jim’s that’s never the same thing twice. 

“I think I like you this way, actually,” Sebastian says, breaking Jim’s train of thought. He works his hand the rest of the way into Jim’s pants and takes him out. His hands are dry and calloused, but the familiarity makes Jim groan. Sebastian always knows what he needs, somehow he always has, and that’s why he’s the only person Jim trusts with this. 

Sebastian’s teeth nip at the edge of Jim’s jaw. Jim can feel his smile against his skin. “You look good pinned down.”

“I look good all the time,” Jim says. He shifts his hips up into Sebastian’s hand, hinting at him to get on with it. 

Sebastian’s breath is warm on his cheek as he laughs, but he seems to get the message. He tightens his grip, then strokes Jim from root to tip, slowly. The friction is almost too much, too rough, but Jim has always liked things that straddle the border of too much and not enough. He closes his eyes and lets his head hit the back of the chair

“Not going to fight you about that.” Sebastian’s doing it again. The posh, almost monotone accent gives way to something more musical, more free, and Jim smiles at the sound of it. No one else gets to hear Sebastian like this. It feels like a gift. 

“Can’t fight... fuck , can’t fight the truth,” Jim manages, cursing when Sebastian twists his hand on the upstroke. 

“I won’t be trying then.” Sebastian’s hand tightens on Jim’s wrists, thumb pressing against the vein. 

Jim smirks. “You’re misplacing your verbs, darling.”

“Shush,” Sebastian says. He shuffles forward a bit and fits his hips over Jim’s. Their cocks slide together, hard and heavy, and Sebastian’s hand covers them both. He slides his palm up, using his own precome to slick the way, and they both moan. 

The sound echoes in the empty room, and they freeze for a moment. 

“Time limit,” Jim reminds Sebastian, his voice tight. 

Sebastian nods, and lets out a shaky breath. “Right.” 

His hand strokes over the two of them, and Sebastian leans in. The movement of his mouth is artless, but Jim doesn’t care. He sucks Sebastian’s bottom lip into his mouth, and pulls. The motion of Sebastian’s hand falters a bit, and Jim smirks. 

“Harder,” he breathes. Sebastian’s grip tightens. He curls his fingers in a bit, letting his nails catch under the head of Jim’s cock. Jim’s breath hitches and he rolls his hips up. The friction makes them both groan. He does it again. 

Sebastian’s breathing quickens. His cock twitches against Jim’s. “Keep that up, and this isn’t going to last much longer.”

“It’s not going to last much longer anyway,” Jim says, mimicking the breaks in Sebastian’s accent. He scowls, but Jim presses up into his hand again and Sebastian’s mouth falls open in a gasp. 

“Point taken,” he says. He leans his forehead against Jim’s, eyes closed, mouth open. His grip on Jim’s wrist slackens for a moment and Jim takes advantage of it. He yanks his hand free and buries his fingers in Sebastian’s hair, dark and curling around his forehead with sweat, and pulls.

Sebastian moans. His breath comes in stuttering gasps, and Jim is dimly aware of the fact that he’s making noises as well - high and needy. Sebastian’s hand moves over the two of them, fast and rough and so good. Jim can feel the pressure building, hot and alive like the fire burning just a few feet away. 

“Jim,” Sebastian gasps, wrecked. 

“I know,” Jim says. He digs his nails into Sebastian’s scalp and rolls his hips up again, unable to help himself. Sebastian meets the next push of his hips with his own. It’s unexpected, and the friction and heat are so perfect, that Jim loses himself in it. He comes against Sebastian with a shuddering gasp, pulling him close and relishing the warmth and weight of him in his lap. 

Sebastian curses and a few seconds later, Jim feels his come hit his shirt. 

They breathe against each other, coming down from the high. Jim closes his eyes. 

“ _Mera pyaar_ ,” Sebastian murmurs. The words tumble out of his mouth in a sluggish purr, and Jim feels the smile slide onto his face before he realizes it. 

“What’s that mean?” he asks. He opens his eyes just in time to catch a blush spread over Sebastian’s cheeks. 

Sebastian shakes his head and starts to pull away. The moment ends. 

“Nothing,” he says. “Now come on. Time limit, and all that.” Back to being posh and proper already. He reaches for his wand and flicks his wrist lazily. The stains disappear from their clothes and Sebastian stands, only a little shaky. He offers his hand to Jim and Jim takes it, letting himself be hauled to his feet. 

“Right.” Jim runs a hand through his hair, then over Sebastian’s shirt, straightening it a bit. “Ready?”

Sebastian nods and squeezes Jim’s hand. “Always.”

They run. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mera pyaar - a Hindi phrase meaning "my love/my life"


End file.
